Date: Sun, 20 May 2007 20:59:37 -0700 (PDT)
From: Gene McEnnis
Subject: Infected Heartstrings - Chapter 2
*Disclaimer* - Do not read this if you are under-age or if it is illegal
for you to do so. By reading this story you are agreeing to absolve the
author of all liability incurred as a result.
-Enjoy
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Ch. 2 - On Sleepless roads
Officer Jones stood outside of the decontamination chamber and
stared intently at the electronic report in his hand. It beeped a scrolled
down slowly, giving him a readout on the patient's vital signs and other
information. It had been a long day, a long flight, a long hibernation.
Well, let's just say today was a pain in the ass. That is, except for the
lone survivor who was still unconscious as the decontamination units went
about their work humming and buzzing as they went.
Jones couldn't help but stare. The way that his eyes had gleamed
even in the grip of terror, his build, everything. His face flushed for a
mere second as memories bubbled up into his head like a hot bath.
"How is he?" the deep voice of Hank Steadman asked, breaking him
from his nostalgia. Hank crossed his overly large muscular arms and stared
into the room beyond the glass.
Jones looked at the taller man who now stood to his left, "If we're
lucky he's not infected," he replied, looking back to the patient.
"Good," the other replied as he haphazardly pushed his dark blond
hair back. "At least we can come back with one."
Jones remembered the others they had found and looked away. The
lean young man behind the glass was still unconscious as the machines
continued their work.
"Mission's not a total bust if we managed to save one," Hank
continued.
After a few moments of silence the gruff man spoke, "Oh yeah," he
said. "You're needed at the controls Jones," he continued, "We need to
leave orbit soon to avoid being spotted by their scouts."
Jones nodded. "Let me know when he wakes up hey?"
"The lab techs are about to start the physical examination." Hank
paused, "You ok?" he asked
Jones turned back, " 'course," he said.
Weaving through the small corridors he popped the hatch to the main
cargo room. Dozens of biomechanical suits lined the side of the room as if
they were some kind of discarded cornhusk and people were the corn. The
ship itself was small but well built. He smiled. He'd run a decent amount
of interplanetary missions on much larger vessels but this one always got
the job done just fine. She was a little vessel from the 12900 series,
military specialty, designed for quick drop or pickup missions only.
Popping the main hatch, Jones finally emerged into the busy and cramped
control room. The small compliment of navigational crew was busying
themselves at the consoles.
"Jameson," He barked as he entered. He paused for a split second
to marvel at the unfamiliar stars just beyond the large clear panel on the
ceiling. The young man spun around on his chair, "Jameson, plot the trip
back into the navigation controls and await for my orders to depart."
Jameson nodded his head once and began entering the data
immediately. His shoulders slumped in concentration, which only served to
make the man look even younger than he was. Three-dimensional light
readouts of the star charts danced above Jameson's console as the eager
young man busily calculated.
"O'Nassi?" Jones called to a squat woman sitting at the back of the
room. She was dwarfed by the mess of machinery that jutted out from the
far wall.
"Sir?"
"I trust that the hibernation implants are ready and being
distributed?" He said.
O'Nassi was the only woman aboard and she had always seemed a
little apprehensive in his opinion as though men would jump out of the
walls at any moment to attack her.
"Everything's in tiptop shape sir," she smiled. "I have yours
waiting for you when you return."
Jones was about to reply when an alarm bell began screeching
through the ship. He pushed past O'Nassi and checked the display.
"Damn it," he swore.
"What is it?" O'Nassi called as if she expected the herds of men
had stormed the ship to ravage her at this very second.
"Just get the hyber implants in order and ready to go Stacey," he
called. She nodded rapidly up and down but he was already long gone.
Jones raced back down the corridor and through the tight turns of the ships
corridors at breakneck speed.
He heard the commotion before he saw it.
"Stand down!" he could see Hank holding a small hand pistol that he
always seemed to have clipped to his ankle.
"Not until I know what the hell is going on," came a voice that
made Jones stop dead in his tracks. It was so familiar and it was so long
ago.
As he passed in front of the glass partition Jones stopped. His
eyes connected with the slim, terrified young man's as he held onto one of
the medical techs by the throat. The man paused.
"Drop the knife!" Hank spat, his hand pistol began to hum and
charge in his hands, "Drop the knife or I'll..."
"That's enough Steadman," Jones stepped forward and placing a hand
over the top of Hank's gun said, "Get me hibernation implants from O'Nassi
and tell them to break orbit asap."
"But.."
"The others are already in stasis Hank, that's an order." The
mammoth man hesitated for only an instant
"Yes sir," he barked. As Hank left, Jones turned once more to face
the strange yet familiar face of the young man standing half clothed behind
the far medical bed with his prisoner in tow.
"Will you tell me what the hell is going on?" The man said. His
eyes briefly flickered with some unknown thought before they became frigid
cold once again.
"Drop the knife and let my med-tech go," Jones said calmly and
evenly.
The man chuckled softly, his knife still poised expertly over the
most vulnerable points on the man's neck. "I want answers," he said, "What
have you done? Who are you!?" he tightened his grip on the man's neck and
leered slightly forward. The medical tech tried his best to squeak.
Jones sighed calmly and walked over to the nearest medical bed. He
leaned back.
"I won't warn you again," the man said backing up. "Back off."
"Drop the knife," Jones raised his head and fixed the man in the
eyes. "You're still disoriented from the drugs we gave you," he said,
"with them in your system you're not in any shape to go anywhere."
The mystery man swallowed hard and blinked rapid for a moment.
"I... I want to know."
"Drop the knife and I'll tell you what you need to know." For a
moment the man hesitated as if weighing options that he didn't like.
Again, the strange emotion flickered over his angular features as he looked
at Jones, but again Jones failed to place it. He frowned.
"You're a soldier," he smiled, "not a murderer. Let him go."
The medical tech dropped to the ground along with the sound of a
sharp metal blade bouncing a few times before coming to rest beside the
startled man. The med tech looked expectantly at Jones with doe eyes. His
name was Emerson Jones thought.
"Emerson," he said, cocking his head to the side, "Report
immediately to O'Nassi and..."
Abruptly, Hank burst through the side corridor with two injection
packs in his hulking arms, "Jones," he said quickly, "We're set to break
orbit. They've spotted us. These are the only two that will work fast
enough..." He tossed the two units to Jones who looked at each unit before
he raised his head.
"Have you taken yours?" Jones asked.
"Yeah," Hank replied, "O'Nassi wouldn't let me leave without taking
it. I got it on a slight time delay to get these back..."
Jones wasn't listening as the sound of the main engines firing
alerted him of the impending spatial shift. He walked calmly up to Emerson
and sank the first unit's contents into the man's forearm. Emerson looked
up for a second before his head hit the floor with a slight thud.
"I have no time to argue with you," He looked at the lithe man
dressed only in the askew white patient's coat.
"What are those things?" He asked, backing up and bracing himself.
The engine roar changed slightly in pitch and Jones already had a sick
feeling in his stomach.
"Our little chat will have to wait," he glanced over at the
semi-clad man. "Don't take this personally," he pushed the injection
needle forward and without warning lanced the unit through the air and into
the abdomen of the mystery man. The orange liquid drained into his body
rapidly.
"Bastard," the man tore at the injection unit before he began to
charge. He grasped at Jones' uniform like a fawning child. He looked at
Jones with pleading eyes and slowly sank to his knees still gripping the
uniform tightly. His body shook with the strain of staying upright. As
his body finally fell to the floor Jones stooped and picked the smaller man
up in his powerful arms. Quietly he placed the man back on the examination
table.
Jones turned to see Hank now too collapsed against the floor,
drooling slightly. The ship's internal emergency lights had begun to
strobe red light throughout the chamber. Officer Jones found a large
metallic bucket near the back of the room. He picked it up and walked back
to the far examination table.
He paused and looked down at the angelic face of the mystery man.
Jones bent down and brushed the dark hair away from the man's face. His
hand rested on the warm skin for precious seconds as if he wanted to burn
the memory of the man into his mind.
"This isn't possible," his bright eyes brimmed with tears.
Hopping back onto the bed Jones brushed his own platinum blond hair
away from his face. "Here we go," he said to no one in particular as he
felt the ship hit the spatial folds and begin to shift. The reality of the
chamber began to distort and warp like a soap bubble, spreading almost
instantly over the young lone officer.
He winced and promptly emptied the contents of his stomach into the
bowl over and over again.
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*Author's note:
Constructive criticism is appreciated and it keeps me honest ;)
(corporeal09@yahoo.com).